


TommyInnit Gets Projected Onto

by Foger



Series: Author venting through a child's roleplay minecraft character [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A very shitty family lmao, Angry TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Captain Puffy Supremacy, Child Neglect, Depression, Gen, Ghostbur except batshit, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Me and Tommy have something in common ahha, Mental Illness, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Non-Canonical, OOC, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, She not here tho, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, There's A Tag For That, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit goes batshit, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, as in, depressedinnit, has a mental breakdown, i want to beat the shit out of c!dream, it's just roleplay it's just roleplay, laugh its funny, technoblade's points are shitty and he's a hypocrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foger/pseuds/Foger
Summary: Basically Tommy screams at his family for being shit.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Author venting through a child's roleplay minecraft character [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138835
Comments: 17
Kudos: 940
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	TommyInnit Gets Projected Onto

**Author's Note:**

> I am projecting onto a child's roleplay Minecraft character, I am completely mentally stable ahahahaha.  
> TW // Suicide Attempt , Thoughts of Suicide , Past Child Abuse , Past Child Neglect  
> If you agree with c!Technoblade and c!Philza, be ready to catch these hands. Also, all the relationships in this are platonic, please don't ship minors, you weirdos.  
> I wrote this fanfiction on accident while waiting for my friend to finish her turn on Scrabble lmao

The icy sky loomed above his head, clouds casting large shadows onto the snowy floor. He tugged his coat closer to his body, shivering at the cold winds that managed to slip through the cloth. 

He despised the cold. He hated how it made him shake and shiver. He hated how it reminded him of his exile. He hated how it reminded him of cold nights and emotionless masks. None of that mattered anymore, he told himself. Dream was locked away. Shaking his head fiercely, he looked straight ahead of him, his destination in the near distance.

Technoblade’s house. His older brother, if you will, though being disowned, it probably didn’t matter. Not that it ever did, considering the days of waiting for the return of family, only to get the deafening silence of dusty halls.

At that time, he had decided- after rubbing his eyes to remove the wetness that definitely came from his eyes being itchy and not him crying, fuck you- to stop calling the people who took him into their home his family.

He laughed aloud at the thought. _Family_. As if. Tommy had thought, once upon a time, that family had meant abandonment. That family meant crying yourself to sleep as you wait for your dad and siblings to burst through the door and comfort you.

Then, he had left the wretched place, leaving it abandoned, just as he was. He wasn’t dumb enough to not know when he was wanted, thank you. So he had set off, scamming and joking his way into and out of situations. And if he had hoped that one of his schemes would go awry and kill him, well, that was no one’s business but his own, was it?

While entering a new realm he met his now best friend, Tubbo. With Tubbo, he learned what a family actually was, and that he had never really never had one. “We’ll be family!” Tubbo had smiled, leaves covering his hair.

Tommy missed those days. Missed the days of just him and Tubbo. The days of no war or stupid fucking discs that only held power because he fucking cared about them. Because he decided to enjoy something and had it twisted by the stupid green homeless man that was locked away in a prison made for him.

Wincing, Tommy tugged at his hair, wishing his brain to shut the fuck up for once. He looked up at a soft neigh, Carl staring him dead in the eyes. With a snort, he walked up to the horse, running his fingers through its hair and muttering his hellos.

He stared at the entrance to the home, remembering his time here. Remembering how uncomfortable it had been for him, no matter how much he wanted to pretend he was happy, no matter how much he wanted to pretend he was safe, he knew he wasn’t wanted there. He never really was.

Technoblade and Philza had called _him_ the traitor. As if he had owed them anything. As if he wasn’t just being used by them as a “gotcha” to L’manberg. He wasn’t a fucking idiot, no matter how much everyone wanted to portray him that way just because he was a loud and obnoxious teen. He knew what Technoblade meant when he mentioned the “favor” to Dream. It was a warning to Tommy. A warning that he was expendable and, the moment Technoblade had gotten what he had wanted from him, he would toss him to the metaphorical wolves.

So Tommy did what was smart. He went back to Tubbo. Said some stupid speech about whatever, and turned back to the family that had betrayed him. He knew how to forgive family. He had done it for years before realizing that there was nothing left to forgive. 

Boisterous, obnoxious Tommy. That’s what everyone saw him as. A nuisance. That’s why they had let him get exiled. It’s why he was ever in wars in the first place. He was called a child, when all the adults around him refused to be adults and monitor the situation.

He was tired. He just wanted to sit on the dumb bench with Tubbo and listen to Chirp. He pulled away from Carl and gripped the handle of the Axe of Peace. He was here to return it, probably give some half-assed apology, and leave, hopefully never seeing Techno or Philza ever again.

Steeling himself, he walked up the steps and knocked, his weight shifting foot to foot in anxiety. He honestly hoped it was Techno who answered. At least he could stand the man somewhat. He couldn’t take Philza. Not right now.

With a creak, the door opened, revealing Technoblade in shiny netherite, eyebrow raised. “Innit.” Techno looked down at Tommy, face revealing very little emotion aside from slight annoyance.

“Techno.” Tommy looked up, face blank, ignoring the small panic at having someone look at him as though they wanted to murder him right on the spot. Given it was Technoblade, that’s probably what he wanted to do to Tommy, so he rushed to the chase.

“I’m here to give you the axe back. Thank you for letting me use it, and I’m sorry I betrayed your trust in me.” Tommy carefully pulled the axe from his side and held it out to Techno, waiting for him to take it from him so that he could leave.

Silence filled air, the axe hanging between them. Techno did not move to take it. No, instead, he was staring at Tommy as though he did something wrong. Tommy’s mind ran through everything he had done. He hadn’t said anything wrong, had he? He said it like he has practiced in the mirror, as he lied in bed, trying to sleep but hoping he wouldn’t. Why was Techno looking at him like a freak? Did he want his armor? The rest of his stuff? He would give it to him, except the coat cause it was too fucking cold in this biome to not have it, and Techno wouldn’t be enough of a bitch to take it, would he?

Tommy twitched, the silence making him uncomfortable.God, couldn’t Techno just get it over with? Even Dream didn’t take this long to tell him what to do. “Look, you can have everything, but not the coat, alright? It’s too fucking cold in this shitty biome to not have it. Which, by the way, shitty choice. Couldn’t have picked a plains biome or something, dickhead?”

Techno face twitched, and Tommy immediately shut his mouth. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have been quiet and waited until Techno decided he was ready. Dream had taught him that, taught him to shut the fuck up and he still fucked it up. He shivered, and decided to pretend it was from the cold.

“I don’t want your trash armor, Tommy.” Techno rubbed his temples, Tommy shifting backwards at the sudden movement.

“Just take the fucking axe then, bitch. I got places to be an’ shit.” Tommy held the axe out again, wishing that Techno would fucking take the stupid thing.

“Don’t you need the axe to take down Dream or something?”

Tommy’s jaw clenched at the name, before he forced himself to grin widely. “Fucker’s in prison an’ shit. Shouldn’t have fucked with me.”

Techno stared once more, ignoring the fact that Tommy was practically pushing the handle of the axe into his face. With a groan, Tommy looked up into the sky, begging for fucking patience because if Techno didn’t take the stupid fucking axe he was going to throw it at the pink bastard. “Just take the axe, Techno.”

Technoblade pushed the handle away from his face, blank look still plastered for all to see. “There’s something I’ve been wondering ever since I found you stealing my stuff. What is it with you and Dream?”

Tommy froze. “What?”

“I mean, it didn’t make sense that he would look for you after leaving your exile. After all, you were never going to be allowed back into the smp land, so why was he so desperate to find you?”

“I don’t fucking know! Man was obsessed with me or sum shit, weird if you ask me? Techno, I am a minor.”

Techno didn’t take the bait. “What did he do to you, Tommy?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, _Blade_. Just take the stupid fucking axe so I can leave and you won’t have to see me again.”

Techno grabbed the handle of the axe and tugged, pulling Tommy along with it, into the house. Tommy stumbled with a surprised shout, falling onto the floor while Techno closed the door of the shack.

“What the fuck?” Tommy shouted, bouncing to his feet and whirling around to face Techno, who was currently placing the axe against the wall.

“Hello, Tommy.” a voice behind him said. A voice he hadn’t heard in a while. A voice he had only heard in the echoes of Pogtopia, as psychotic ramblings had filled his ears. The coldness of the voice fitting the cold darkness of Pogtopia, the voice of Wilbur. _Alive_ Wilbur.

Tommy turned, keeping Techno in his vision, and felt dread as he saw Wilbur sitting at Techno’s table, in the attire he wore before the explosion, the stupid fucking brown coat that haunted his dreams. Sitting next to him was the last person he wanted to see, and he was positive the feeling was mutual, from the blank look on Philza’s face. He was mostly surprised to not see Ranboo, his replacement.

“What the fuck.” He echoed, pretending to not notice Technoblade moving towards the table. “What the fuck is this, an intervention?” He shifted, gripping his arm and grimacing at the quiet throb of pain that had made itself known. Looks like the painkillers had worn off, and his little tumble had not helped matters.

“Tommy, I’m so happy to see you again.” Wilbur continued, pretending as though Tommy hadn’t spoken, a common thing people seemed to do when they felt as though you had nothing of importance to say.

Tommy couldn’t say the feeling was mutual. He fucking hated Wilbur, and at least Ghostbur was slightly tolerable, as in, he didn’t fuck with his brain and make it all fuzzy and shit. Tommy never wanted to see “Alivebur” again, not after giving the dumb man a chance to be a family for him to fucking go psychotic and destory everything he had fucking worked for.

“What- why are you Alivebur?”

“I got my memories back. Both the one’s before my death and the ones after.”

“How?”

“I didn’t know at first, but it probably has to do with the fact that you’ve imprisoned Dream. At least, that’s the only significant thing that seems to have happened recently, right?”

Tommy nodded, pretending to ignore the way Philza’s eyes bore into his face. God, could the man pretend to be fucking nice and not stare at him? Tommy focused on Wilbur once more.

“Tommy...I remember everything. I remember your exile. I remember _Dream_.” Wilbur spit the name as though it was poison, and Tommy couldn’t control the flinch at the sound.

Today, he decided, was the worst fucking day of his life. He wanted to get the fuck out right now and go back to Tubbo and listen to Chirp and pretend as though he doesn’t wake up screaming, as though he doesn’t think about Dream every waking moment, about him leaving Pandora’s Vault and coming for him.

“What about Dream, big man? That he’s a bitch? Everybody already knew that, dickhead.” Tommy rolled his shoulders, the pain jostling him out of the derailing train that was his thoughts and bringing him to the present.

“Stop it, Tommy.” Wilbur floated towards Tommy, the teen taking a step back at the sudden closeness of the cold ghost. “Stop pretending you’re okay when you’re not!”

Wilbur sighed. “Dream abused you, Tommy.”

And at that, Tommy’s brain short circuited. The fuck? Abuse? What? “What the fuck are you talking about Wilbur? Dream was a dick, yeah, but he didn’t, like, abuse me.” Right?

Wilbur looked at him sadly, as though he was delusional or something. He wasn’t, by the way. Dream hurt him, but it’s because it’s what he had thought was best. He shouldn’t have angered him. He should have learned to be quiet sooner, but he didn’t, so Dream had to teach him. 

His stomach hurt. He felt like someone was sticking his hand in there and twisting it up and shit. Which, annoying. He felt an oncoming headache. He shouldn’t have done this. He should have been a fucking coward and just leave the fucking axe at the doorstep before running off.

“Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes jerked towards Philza’s, blue meeting blue. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Philza shook his head. “No, why didn’t you tell _me_?”

A sharp pang announced itself near Tommy’s heart. His head screaming vulgar words at the man that was his “father”. Tommy is tired. Tired of holding back, of not saying what he wants to say. Of being hurt and then blamed or ignored. He was fucking sick of it.

“Why would I tell you?” Tommy snarled, his anger overtaking him, his control snapping as all the hate he had built up over the years came crashing down on him all at once, the bottled emotions shattering the glass bottle it was held in.

Philza, Wilbur, and Techno all looked taken aback, Philza with a hurt expression on his face, which brought Tommy a sick satisfaction. He was tired of being the only one hurt. He wanted to _hurt them_. “Tommy, I’m your father. We’re a family!” Philza regained himself, slight anger filling his posture and tone.

Tommy laughed bitterly. “What fucking family? The family that left me behind to rot in a fucking ugly ass house, waiting for people who would never come? Or the family that destroyed everything I cared about and worked for because the only satisfaction they will ever get in their miserable lives is from the pain and suffering of others? Don’t make me fucking laugh. Family my ass, you stupid bitches.”

With that, Tommy exited the building, slamming the door shut and stomping off into the cold. He ignored his wet face, walking back towards Tubbo, _his family_. All he had was Tubbo and the discs, and even those weren’t permanent. Not while everyone wanted to fuck with the life of a teenager for no fucking reason at all.

He hated the smp, he hated L’manburg, he hated Dream, he hated Philza, Techno, Wilbur. He hated them all. God, why didn’t he just fucking do it? Why didn’t he just jump into the fucking Nether or jump off the shittily made tower? Why was he such a fucking coward? To go on the brink just to step away? What is wrong with him? Why did he feel this way? How does he make it stop? He just wants to be happy, how the fuck do you feel happy?

“What the fuck is wrong with me” he whispered into the frosty air. Another fucking reason to hate the cold, he mulled, as he headed back.


End file.
